Smile Honey
by suplexlibelus
Summary: A different take on New 52's Joker's Daughter. Gore. Violence.


Heavy boots collided with the hard cement of GPD's grounds. The short, bony figure stood still for a moment, listening attentively for any foreign sound. Muddy brown eyes, cloaked in darkness, swept over their surroundings. The figure seemed for a fleeting moment, lost in thought. Everything was silent, too silent. Even in these hours of the night, some guards still had to be at their posts.

Short, poorly dyed hair flew about an unseen face as the figure shook it's head violently. Thin fingers clenched tightly around a heavy metal bar, the only weapon she had on her.

"No!" She thought. "This is not how he would act." A grin spread over her face as she propped the bar on her shoulder, only to throw it away, not caring of the noise it made. Quickly, she broke into a run, her boots slamming against the concrete. Overthinking was her most annoying trait. "Mad people don't overthink!" She knew, but her brain still sent her desperate messages. What if she got caught? What if she got killed? What if she failed?

Her grin slowly morphed into a pained grimace. Her jaw was hurting, but she knew pain is no longer her enemy. She only had to let go.

The central office of the GPD finally came into view. Her footsteps were quickly sensed by the large dogs that were sleeping nearby. She watched them bark and howl and struggle against their chains as she drew closer. She thought of her own dog, her sweet puppy that was so brutally murdered by those disgusting human beings that called themselves her parents. The dogs, large rottweilers obviously bred for fighting, grew quieter and quieter as she kneeled in front of the largest, placing her hand gently on his heavy head. Dogs, or actually, animals never attacked her. She didn't fear them, she loved every animal and knew to show it. The four large dogs gathered around her, sniffing her and pushing their snouts into her hand. She smiled kindly, lovingly brushing her fingers through their short fur. For a moment, she lost herself into the happiness. All her life, in her darkest moments, she would retreat among animals; pet them, hug them, tell them her story. They were her only friends.

One of the dogs raised his large head, his eyes glaring at something behind her. The other dogs raised their heads as well, tensing under her hands. "Hey! Who's there?!" A sigh escaped her mouth, as she slowly extended her hand reaching for the metal hooks that kept them still. "You are not supposed to be here!" The hooks dropped with a dry clank and the large dogs stood completely still for a heart-beat before pouncing. She turned to see the unknown man's skull crack on the cement, the weight of the dogs knocking him down. He screamed, his eyes wide in fear as the dogs bit and growled, beginning to tear into flesh. The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. A scream sounded from her left but, before she could turn one of the dogs jumped up to defend her. A gunshot ringed into her ears and her eyes widened in shock as she watched the lifeless body of her friend hit the ground.

A rough scream, resounding from depths of her being tore it's way through her throat and she raced towards the man, hitting him with all her might. They both fell down but she ignored the shock and grabbed the man by the hair, bashing his head on the cement, wishing with all her might to turn his brain into mush, to make him pay for what he did. The man went limp under her but she didn't have the strength to finish the job. She crawled silently towards the body of her friend, hugging his cold corpse. A new burst of anger bubbled under her skin and she hurried towards the man, grabbing his gun and shooting him several times. She laughed a sick, hellish laugh and kicked the corpse several times.

With wide sure steps she walked up to the dark door of the small building and threw it open only to reel back as a thick cloud of smoke erupted from within. Coughing, she dropped the gun and motioned the dogs away before crawling inside. Everything was dark and she had to struggle to keep silent.

A thud resounded from somewhere to her left and she jumped slightly before retreating. She avoided the center of the room. On her knees, silently, she kept crawling. Her throat felt dry as she realized the uselessness of her "plan". She had entered the GPD without actually knowing nothing more than her objective; the Joker's face.

There she goes again, overanalysing everything. Sane people were guilty, sane people were trialed, sane people were sentenced. If she wanted freedom, she had to let go.

With a heavy thud, a man's body fell before her, making her cringe. She saw the man's hand reaching for something before him and, taking her chances, she reached a trembling hand to feel around on the table-like thing the man seemed to reach for. Finally, her fingers reached something hard, a suitcase she guessed. Footsteps echoed through the room making her realize that the smoke was slowly but surely dissipating. She ignored the desperate signals her brain was sending her, noisily dragging whatever object she had grabbed down to her level. A loud bang resonated from above, making her stumble out of her hiding place and out of the door. The suitcase flew out of her hands and landed on the cold cement.

Her friends found her hours later, struggling to breathe in a run-down alley near the GPD. Only now realizing she was cold, she hugged their furry bodies, her limbs trembling violently and her heart racing. Whatever was she thinking? She is no hero, no superhuman, no insane rogue. She was a nobody. No one was afraid of her, few people even knew her. She was not even able to... . She cried, burying her face into the largest rottweiler's neck. But she killed! She could kill these miserable worms that called themselves "today's society". She did, and wanted to do it again.

A shaky hand reached upwards, wiping wet tears off of her scarred face. She wanted to paint the world's greatest masterpiece with humanity's still warm guts. Mothers eating their new-born children, fathers murdering their beloved families and dieing slowly, a tight noose clenched around their necks. Then, she will be alone. No evil, no pain, no screams, only her hugging the only beings that understood her. Waiting for death.

A smirk split her bony face as she stood up. She needed only to lift her head to see the lovely image of a dark window, staring back with a blank yet friendly expression. Her friends sat around her as she crouched, shushing them gently. A water-duct was her one way in. The window, old and rotten, slid open silently, albeit a bit reluctantly. She stopped to wave when the sound of a knob being turned caught her attention. Smiling, she slid behind an old dirty shower curtain, laying in wait.

The door opened and the light flickered before lighting the room in a weak orange light. A small figure shuffled in and stopped in front of the toilet. Before the child's hands reached the elastic band of his shorts, a bony hand grabbed his hair slamming his small head into the old toilet, shattering it into pieces with a loud crack. His head met the wall once more before being shoved into the toilet, a heavy boot making his struggles futile. A shrill scream made the scarred young woman raise her heavy brown eyes. A thin bony woman stood in the middle of the dark hallway, her mouth open in what was now a silent scream. No sooner had the scared stranger made a step backwards, that the girl leapt forward hitting her with all her might. The woman's skull gave a frightening crack as it collided with a metal door-knob. The door was smashed to pieces and she stood up, one hand still tangled in the woman's dark curls. Facing her was an empty two-person bed, it's sheets rustled and tossed aside. A light breeze made the cheap window-coverings float lazily as loud barking resonated through the darkness. A casual stroll to the window to congratulate her friends on a job well done and she was back in business. Retrieving a large knife from the small kitchen, she crouched down to check the woman's face. She was unpleased. The young child proved more resourceful, albeit a bit wetter. She took her time, slowly carving the skin of the boy's now disfigured face off his flesh. A wide smile was skillfully cut into the skin, before it was dipped in bleach. She let it soak, using the time she had to rummage through the family's belongings. They didn't even have a phone or a T.V, they were dirt poor.

For just a split second, her heart sank. Maybe these people had done nothing bad. Maybe they were like her, trapped in a world too unfair to be lived in. An angry hiss escaped her clenched teeth as she threw away the tattered photo in her hand and stalked towards the bathroom. The face now floated above the bleach, burned, leathery and white. Her snarl turned into a new smile as she grabbed the weightless body of the child and used his stiff hand to retrieve her new jewel. She didn't knew what time it was, but she waited patiently, collecting straps, strings and bonds and slicing off everything she could of her hair.

The first rays of the sun caressed the gruesome scene in the abandoned bathroom. Several meters down under, protected by Gotham's sewers, she slept along her friends, the foreign skin strapped to her face shining in the darkness.


End file.
